Hold On, Let Go
by Flyawaysnogbox
Summary: "I want to be filled with stars." Whouffle AU. As in the Doctor is human. Warning: Smut.


Author's note: Yeah, this is AU. The Doctor's human. It's been in my head forever and I'm just inspired at the moment. Bit of romance, bit of humor, bit of smut.  
My smut isn't great but there really is a serious lack of Whouffle smut and I'm just trying to add to it. And this got a lot more smutty than I intended for it to get.  
Errors are my own.  
They may seem a bit out of character but, hey, it is AU. I meant to make this much longer than it is but it got to the point where it would have been a bit repetitive. I'm happy with how it turned out.  
Please review.

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't anything. Just borrowing these fabulous characters.

* * *

Clara craved control and order in her life.

The routine she had going now, being a teacher and working fives days a week was good. It wasn't perfect, but it was ideal and it was stable. Her job wasn't a demanding and teaching was something she really enjoyed and her students were great. Even the troublesome ones, but if they were willing to learn than she was more than happy to teach.

Other than her wanderlust, her dreams to travel, she remained where she was. She was never too out of control and didn't do anything to spontaneous. She worked five days a week and had the weekends to herself or spent time with her family or friends.

One thing she definitely didn't do was invite strangers over and just fall into bed with them. But her head was pounding and there was most definitely a man in her bed. It was 11am on a Saturday and she remembered every detail of the night before

* * *

She had wanted to go out and drink because it had been a Friday night so she met a few of her old University friends at a bar and the night went from there. Laughing and swapping stories. She was twenty-five for fuck's sake, she was allowed to have fun but she didn't plan on having that much fun. Her friends had cleared out before she did.

That was when she met him. He was cheerful and playful and only a little tipsy. Not near as drunk as she was but he had been a gentlemen, offered to hail her a taxi or walk her home because she'd told him that she didn't live to far from the bar. So, he escorted her home and before she could stop herself she was inviting him inside. He was a bit shy and hesitant but followed her nonetheless.

She stumbled to her door and into her kitchen, making tea for the both of them while the man sat at her dining table watching and listening to her with an amused look on her face. She was chattering away about nothing and everything all at one. About her job, her students, her dad, the friends she had been with that night, her dreams of traveling the world and seeing new and unknown places. She ran from the kitchen and returned with a book 101 places to see, she told him how it had been her mom's before the woman had passed away.

He felt like maybe he was intruding on a private moment, it was just the two of them but she was drunk and uninhibited and if she were sober, maybe she wouldn't have been telling him any of these things. She didn't even know his name. She hadn't asked and he didn't tell her. He knew her name, Clara Oswald. He liked it. It seemed to suit her.

Clara paused when she realized that she'd been rambling on and on and he had yet to say anything.

She giggled nervously, she didn't drink much and didn't have much control over her impulses.

"I'm so sorry," she said, a bit flustered, "I just keep babbling on and you're in my home and I don't know you and you don't know me and this isn't me. I promise."

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled warmly at her, "We have our moments. Once I was really drunk and painted a load of cardboard boxed royal blue and tried to build them into a time machine."

His cheeks were pink at this admission and she could only laugh at him.

"Oi," he interjected, "Who wouldn't want a time machine? Think about it, Clara Oswald. All of time and space. You could end up anywhere in the world."

She tilted her head and looked at him funny, but indulged him, "And where would you want to go?"

"Anywhere and everywhere," he answered confidently, "There's so much unseen, parts of earth that have probably never been walked on. Decades, centuries, and millenniums. All that time that's existed. Do you think you could ever just pick one time and place?"

She shook her head, "I've never given it much thought. My obvious answer would be to the time right before my mum died. I'd want to be there for her. I was gone at University when I got the phone call from my dad. She didn't die alone, she had him with her but I wish I could have held her hand. Tell her what an amazing mum she was."

He reached out his hand to hers and clasped them together, caressing his thumb over the front of her hand. Clara found herself gravitating toward him with just that simple touch of his hand. As he was still sitting in chair, facing her, she found herself standing between his legs and leaning down to press just the smallest kiss to his lips, the softest touch of lips against lips and when she pulled away, he could still feel a tingle of how she felt against him. Clara, despite already being intoxicated from alcohol, was finding herself intoxicated by him and she lowered her head again, crashing her lips into his. The first kiss was subtle and chaste but this one caught him off guard. There was force and passion behind it. She was wanting to lose control and he could tell when she nibbled on his bottom lip, begging for entry and he responded, kissing her with just as much zeal.

Clara was running from her emotions, talking about her mom had set her up for sadness and she needed to be as far away from that feeling as she possibly could. She wanted to throw away the control and order in her life. Just for tonight. One night wouldn't ruin her life.

She climbed atop the man, straddling him, grinding against him and he couldn't hold back when he bucked his hips up to press against her center. She was wearing a dress with tights, the man in jeans, and she could feel his hardness and she didn't realize how much she wanted this until she felt her heart beating faster, her cheeks flushing pink, and a rush of wetness between her legs. His hands were running through her hair, to her breasts, her back. As she began rocking against him his hands made their way to her ass, holding her in place, squeezing gently and eliciting the most wonderful sound from her mouth against his lips.

"Lets move to my room" she mumbled against his lips not wanting to break any contact. He understood and lifted her up with him, her legs secured around his waist.

"Oh! Wait wait wait," Clara exclaimed and he stopped abruptly, letting her down as she ran to the stove, shutting it off. Tea could wait.

They resumed their position, their lips attacking the others as he tried to find his way to her room while carrying her and kissing her. It wasn't an easy task but her flat wasn't large and he found her bedroom in no time. He wanted nothing more than to dispose of their clothing and be inside her. She was willing and ready. She enjoyed being the boss when it came to sex with men she'd dated in the past but she was enthusiastic to relinquish that control tonight to this man.

She sat on the edge of her bed as he stood over her, he ran a hand through her hair and down to her breast, tweaking a nipple through her layers of clothing. He knelt down pushing her shoulders down so her back was flat on the bed, he instructed her to scoot up and spread her legs, her dress riding up. He removed her tights and glided a finger over her panties, rubbing a thumb over her clit. She let out heavy, fast, gasping breaths as she was so sensitive to his touches. He removed her offending material and moved his head toward her wet folds, entering a finger and then a second one, thrusting them in and out, in and out, before he added his tongue to his teasing, loving every gasp, moan, and whine that came from between her lips. The quiet profanities she was whispering were his favorite. Every time she said _fuck_, he would thrust his fingers just a little harder, just a little deeper. He'd remove his fingers and suck on her clit for a moment before plunging his tongue into her entrance.

"Let go, Clara. I want you to come," he urged, her legs were quivering and like jelly. She was coming undone and he wanted to watch. He thumbed at her clit fiercely, kissing her thighs and nibbling as them while he continued to rub at her sensitive bundle of nerves and in a moment, she was coming. Shaking and trying to control her breathing while her orgasm quaked throughout her whole being.

He pulled away and stood up, she whimpered at the loss of his closeness, but his pants were getting tighter by the second and it wasn't comfortable any longer. Clara sat up when she finally had herself until control and reached for the button on his jeans, lowering the zipper and tugging down his trousers. His member covered by his boxer briefs was straining to be let free and she didn't hesitate as she tugged those down as well, his large member standing erect. Her eyes went wide for a moment before she recovered, but he didn't miss the surprise on her face and he felt smug because of it. Clara wrapped her hand around his length and gave a few pumped to his cock, longing to have him inside of her. She pulled her dress from over her head and unclasped her bra as he rid himself of his shirt, leaving them both exposed and vulnerable to each other.

He climbed atop her as they shimmied themselves further up the bed, her head resting on a pillow. He kissed her soundly and then bit and nibbled at her neck, wanting to leave a mark and she wanted him to leave one. She didn't want to play by the rules tonight. He sat back on his legs and spread her legs apart on either side of him, holding them firmly in his handed as he teased the tip of his cock at her entrance. She inched forward a bit, as much as she could, but enough for his tip to enter her. She hissed and without warning he thrusted his whole cock within her pussy, filling her completely. He pounded at her relentlessly. There was nothing tame about it, it was sloppy and erratic and perfect and he wasn't going slow with her. She didn't want him to. She begged him to go harder and he obliged to her wishes.

She was soaking and tight and as she clenched her muscles around him, he knew she was close again so he didn't slow down. He was close, too and as he drove her to the peak again, he emptied himself within her, pecking her lips before pulling out of her.

They fell asleep next to each other.

* * *

It was the next morning now, she had a headache, she was a sore, and she had no idea what to do with this man in her bed. She got up from her bed, in search of a large glass of water and aspirin. She downed the water and aspirin, hoping to get rid of the of the ache in her head when she heard a voice behind her.

"Hey," said a gravelly, sleepy voice of the man she had taken to bed last night.

She jumped in surprise, not expecting him to be behind her, already dressed in the clothes he'd had on the night before.

"Um, hi. Can I make you some tea? Although maybe that's not a good idea considering what happened last night when I was trying to make us tea. It could start all over again."

He chuckled, "Do you regret it, Clara Oswald?"

"It's just Clara" she muttered before she turned away from him, her face flushing, it was by far the best sex she'd had in her life but she wasn't going to tell him that.

She shrugged, "I just – I don't do this type of thing, ever. Fuck, I don't even know your name. What is your name?"

"It's John Smith."

She scoffed, "That has to be the most common name in the world. I know nothing about you. You know more about me than I do about you, how is that fair?"

She was feisty, bossy. He liked it. Clara had spilled so much about her life to him last night and he'd no control over what she had told him. But we wanted to know more about her.

"Nothing about life is fair, Clara, but you need to just let that go and accept it. It was one night. I don't want it to be just one night. Do you?"

She contemplated his in her mind for a moment. Thinking about what she would tell her family and friends if she were to start seeing this man regularly.

_Hey this is John and I met him in a bar one night and let him fuck me senseless and I didn't even know his name until the next morning but he's a great guy_.

"I don't know, John. I'm due at my second job in about an hour, I nanny the children of a family friend and tomorrow I have papers to grade and then dinner with my dad and gran. Maybe we'll come across each other another time."

He looked dejected at this, the light that had been in his eyes since the moment she met him last night had disappeared and they were big and sad and dark shade of green, but he nodded his agreement and saw himself out of her home.

Monday at school had gone smoothly, until she had a message come through over the intercom asking her to report to the office because there was an emergency. Clara's heart skipped a beat, fearing something had happened to her dad or gran. She was always so worried about losing one of them after the death of her mother.

When she entered the office, the secretary looked at her sympathetically and told Clara that she'd been given permission to take the rest of the day off, that another teacher had been called in to take over her classes.

"Your husband is waiting out in the hallway Mrs. Oswald."

"My Husb-" Clara cut herself off as she saw John standing in the hallway. This had to be a joke. She thanked the office assistant and entered the corridor, angrily pulling John behind her outside of the school.

"Are you winding me up? What the hell are you thinking? You can't just show up at my place of work. How did you even know where I worked? And, really, my husband? Please."

He ignored the sting of her last comment, it could happen.

"I just think you should play hooky, Clara Oswald. It doesn't seem like you have enough fun." he observed, she was very controlled in her life, "And let me tell you something, you never want to be a grown up. Let's stop that from happening! And I know you work here because you told me on Friday night before we both had the best sex of our lives," he smirked.

"Oh? It was the best you'd ever had?" It was Clara's turn to look smug.

He ignored that question, too, "Clara, please, come away with me. Just for the day. I'll have you back before eleven tonight so you have a proper night's rest and can resume your routine, scheduled life.

She glared at him but he shrugged it off.

"Live a little," he grinned and straightened his bow tie.

Clara looked over him, "What are you wearing?"

"I always where this sort of outfit," he defended, maybe he did, she didn't remember what he was wearing that Friday night, "Tweed jackets are cool. Bow ties are cool."

She rolled her eyes at this ridiculous man that was full of life. She admired him.

She let out a deep, begrudging, groan, "Fine. Lead the way."

He leaped in the air before spinning around and clapping his hands together from excitement. He was such a child.

She loved the way he seemed to have so much life him. Clara hadn't felt that way in such a long time. Everything was order and responsibility. Balance and a quiet, peaceful life. Lonely, sometimes, because she didn't see her friends and family too often to always feel secure that someone was there for her.

This man was offering her adventure, if only for a day. She didn't see much of a reason not to trust him. They had already shared one of the most intimate encounters a pair could have together.

John took her to his favorite place, a high rooftop that over looked the whole city, he told her it was even more beautiful at night, all the stars above you. Bright as ever, sometimes. Other times, dull, but he had a telescope and he loved to imagine what it would be like to float among the stars. He would imagine how many planets there were beyond the ones humanity was aware of. He wanted to know if other species existed.

"Do you dream?" Clara asked him.

" 'Course I do," he murmured

"What about?" she asked him.

John told her to look up at the sky, to try and take in the vastness, to try and imagine where it ends and it starts. She couldn't, she wasn't even sure if it did.

"The sky is just a void," she whispered, "with specks of light, at night, that try to shine through every so often."

"My dream is to fill up the dark sky I feel in my life sometimes. The void. I want to be filled with stars, Clara Oswald. No darkness," he said, "Sadness and loss have followed me for too long and sometimes I let it overcome me and I become bitter and angry. But there's so much to live for, don't you think?"

Clara let the thought rest in her head, she was juggling it around in her mind, trying to figure out what she did think of it.

"I suppose. But there's also stability, John. I like what I do and I'm successful in my job. I'm a good teacher. I'm alive and I'm living for that."

John looked over her, there was sadness written on her face and shown through her eyes, "Are you happy with your life?"

She rolled her eyes, where was he going with all this?

"Well, I'm not unhappy, that's for sure."

He smiled widely, "I am going to teach you to live life. Be young again. Have fun."

Clara was feeling a bit sassy tonight and scoffed at his suggestion, "What, like just falling to bed with strangers? That kind of fun? Lying about family emergencies to get out of teaching my students."

"Yes!" John exclaimed, "Step outside the boundaries once in awhile. Let go. Unless you've found someone you want to hold hands with. Hold their hand and never let go. Being lonely is never a good thing. And maybe you shouldn't sleep with anymore strangers because, I mean – well," He didn't know how to continue what he was going to say.

She understood, though, "You want it to be you, don't you? The man I'm with and trust and hold hands with? The person I sleep next to at night."

"It could be me."

She nodded, thoughtfully, "Yeah. Yes, it could be you."

She knew that the morning after she slept with him, that she could see himself with him. Not just because of a night of amazing sex but the way he was forward and honest with her when he spoke to her that morning. The way he showed up at her school, that day, going after exactly what he wanted. Which so happened to be her. He was so free and she admired that.

He kissed her then, deeply and she returned the passion but pulled away, "If we keep up at that, I might not be able to control myself and we are not going to fuck on a rooftop."

John laughed loudly, "You should give in more, Clara!"

"Don't push your luck, Mr Smith," Clara laughed a little, "That really is your name, isn't it?"

"A lot of people just call me the Doctor. John Smith is a little bland, I agree."

"But you're anything but bland. Why the Doctor? You aren't actually a doctor, are you?"

Clara was glad they were talking about themselves now, that she was learning a little about him because she felt a magnetic attraction to this man but essentially knew very, very little about him.

His eyes brightened, he loved his job, "No. I own a little shop within town. I fix broken toys, watches, electronics. I like interacting with the people, knowing their stories, seeing their joy and smiles when something precious to them has been repaired and returned to them. Not everything or everyone that's a little broken is lost forever."

"You're a wonderful man, John," Clara stood from her spot and held a hand out to John, "You wanna get out of here?" She was significantly smaller than he was and he feared that instead of standing up, he would pull her down with him. He brushed her hand off and hoisted himself up.

Once he was flat on his feet, he grabbed her hand and entwined their fingers. The feel of her hand in his, how it fit in his perfectly, though she had small hands, it felt right.

"Yes ma'am, you're the boss. I'll follow your lead," she nodded, before grinning up at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

He asked her to be his person. The one to hold on to and never let go and she told him yes. He was helping her live. He let her know it was okay to be sloppy and messy from time, even when you're sober.

She had someone to hold on to and something to let go of.

And she was happy.


End file.
